


A Helping Hand

by EmetoOmo



Series: Rayne/Demi (OCs) [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Emetophilia, F/F, Forced Vomiting, Sickfic, Vomiting, Whump, emeto, induced vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 18:53:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16770865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmetoOmo/pseuds/EmetoOmo
Summary: Rayne has a habit of not noticing how much she eats if she’s otherwise focused on something else. After eating far more Chinese food than she planned, she ends up with an upset stomach only Demi can help her with.





	A Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Lickstynine on Tumblr. 
> 
> Graphic depictions of vomiting ahead.

“That…was so…fucking good…” Rayne half-groaned, sitting back on the couch. Chinese food containers littered the coffee table, all without a single drop of food left within them. Bringing her short legs up, she winced a little and then slid them back down with a huff. 

“Eat too much?” Demi asked, her hand warm against the shorter woman’s thick thigh. Rayne smiled softly, scooting closer to her with a little difficulty. 

“Probably, you know how I get.” She lay her head against the taller girl, grateful when she wrapped a long slender arm around her to receive her. “If I’m doing anything other than just eating, I don’t register how much I’m eating.” 

“It’s cute,” Demi smirked, laying her hand over Rayne’s normally soft tummy, feeling it unusually taut beneath the hem of her Panic! at the Disco t-shirt. Her stomach twitched beneath her touch and forced out a rather loud belch, her darker skin tinting red with blush as she covered her mouth. 

“Sorry, my lord…” she whispered mortified. 

Demi chuckled softly, lightly removing her hand. “Feel better?” 

“Not really,” she whispered, the belch having just made her stomach feel a bit queasy, almost fluttery. “You can put your hand back. It’s…comforting.” 

Lightly, she returned her hand to her stomach, lightly petting it with her thumb. “You’ve always liked having my hand on your stomach.” 

Rayne closed her eyes once more, relaxing into Demi once more. “As silly as it sounds…it makes me feel validated. You’re not grossed out by it.”

“Well, no, why would I be? It’s a tummy. And a cute one at that,” she smiled, kissing the corner of her lips. Rayne blushed deeply for that, hiding her face against her. 

“I’ve dated a lot of people, mostly guys, but some girls too…who for the first month or two said my tummy was cute to them too. And then, suddenly, it’s ‘how can you stand eating half a chocolate cake in one sitting?’ and ‘I’m starting a diet, I think it’d be a great idea if you joined me.’” Rayne admitted softly. 

Demi released a short, warm sigh, frowning a little. “It honestly pisses me off to know you went through that. Like, what the fuck does it matter to them? You’re happy, you’re healthy, and it cost an additional _free ninety-nine_ for them to have minded their own fucking business.” 

Lightly, Rayne reached up to touch her cheek. “You’re not them.” 

“Damn straight I’m not.” She said, her fierce protective temper doused easily with that gentle touch. “I just hate that so many could have left such a senseless mark on you.”

Rayne’s stomach gurgled beneath Demi’s fingers, leaving the smaller girl to squirm a little. “Did that hurt?” 

“A little.” Rayne admitted, her face reddening up again. 

“Love, burp if you think it’ll help.” Demi urged. Rayne made a face. “Really. I won’t tell a soul that the great Rayne has normal human bodily functions.” 

That got her to laugh a little, another burp forcing its way out anyway, leaving her to grimace a little miserable. “Ugh.” She belched again, urged by an insistent, much stronger pain in her stomach. “Oh god…” 

“Stomach’s really hurting you, huh?” 

“…a…little…” Rayne admitted, entirely embarrassed by it. 

Demi kissed the top of her red-violet curls, and gently rubbed her stomach. “I’m sure it’ll settle. Just relax, I’ve got you.” 

Rayne trusted the word of her lover and settled on half-watching the television with her instead. Demi had turned it over to one of those scientific ‘how it’s made’ documentaries that she loved, leaving Rayne to zone out to it. 

The reprieve to her tummy lasted only a few minutes before the pain came back with a vengeance, prompting a burp that felt larger than she was, and left her feeling a little nauseated on the tail in. Her cheeks burned feeling Demi’s worried gaze. “Sorry…” 

“Don’t be. Are you not feeling any better?” She asked. 

Rayne shook her head, biting her lip as she sat up a little more and shifted, forcing herself this time to burp more. It didn’t relieve the pressure at all this time and felt as if her throat was coated too thickly for the air to travel up easily. “Is it warm in here?” 

“Let me check the thermostat.” 

Slipping off the couch, Demi headed into the hall while Rayne moved to sit on the edge of the cushions more. Without her in the room, she felt a bit more comfortable trying to get the trapped gas out, the next couple belches sounding ominously wet, and only serving to cause the nausea to intensify. “Oh God…” 

“…it was on 72, I turned it down more for you though.” Demi said, automatically testing her forehead for warmth once she could reach Rayne. “You don’t feel warm, though.” 

“I’ll be okay. Please don’t worry. I don’t mean to interrupt your show.” She said honestly. “It’ll settle, really.” The last part, she felt she was saying more for her own benefit, especially as she swallowed thickly. The inside of her mouth felt far too humid and moist for her liking. Her stomach gurgled audibly, a painful high-pitched whine that almost sound as if her stomach was crying for how terrible it felt. 

“I think we have some Emetrol in the cabinet,” Demi offered, rubbing Rayne’s back. She shook her head gently. 

“I haven’t thrown up since I was a kid. Sometimes, I just have to ride it out.” 

Demi trusted her girlfriend to know her own body well enough and left it at that. Instead, she rubbed her back while she returned to her show, knowing Rayne would relax only so long as she didn’t think Demi was sacrificing things for her. Rayne lifted her shirt up a little to expose her bloated belly and rubbed it gently herself while she continued to try to stifle sick burps behind her hand. 

Suddenly her belly jerked with a painful hiccup that forced enough pressure up her throat that she pitched forward a moment. When nothing came up, she took that as a good warning to go ahead and head into the bathroom, one hand on her tummy, the other clamped over her mouth.

The pain in her stomach was starting to intensify, her mouth watering as she dropped to her knees against the cold bathroom tile and leaned over the porcelain bowl. Letting her mouth hang open, thick drool spilled out freely until she gave an experimental spit thinking it would trigger her to gag. No such luck, however, as the stringy saliva simply floated in the water tauntingly, churning her stomach more, and flooding her mouth anew. 

She whimpered from the pain in her stomach, staring into the bowl as if it would inspire her to vomit, just trying to envision the Chinese food from earlier coming up, the smell of it. Nothing more than another painful hiccup escaped her, causing her eyes to water, her throat burning from acid that refused to be expelled. 

“Rayne, love, are you alright in there?” Demi called from outside the door. 

“I…I’ll be okay. I just…it hurts so _bad_. I can’t will myself to throw up, though,” she whined, the desperation in her voice causing her to flush from self consciousness. 

“I’m coming in, babe. Alright?” When Rayne offered no protest, Demi slid into the medium sized bathroom, the dark blue of the wallpaper complementing her ice blue hair. “Oh, you really feel terrible, don’t you?” 

Rayne nodded, belching wetly and getting the weakest little gag for it. She shifted, trying to strain a little as if she could try to belch again when she didn’t need to and get it up, but only managed to make herself breathless.

“Maybe I can help?” Demi offered. 

Rayne weakly raised a brow, trembling a little from the extreme nausea. “I don’t think you can but thank you for offering. I’ve gotten stomach bugs and hang overs that I couldn’t cure with my own fingers…” 

Demi moved to the sink and washed her hands thoroughly. “My fingers are a little longer. Let me try? If it doesn’t work or makes it worse, we’ll stop. I promise.” 

Rayne looked a little mortified, realizing she was serious. 

“What if I throw up on your hand?” She asked worried. 

Demi shrugged, leaving her hands wet as she came to settle behind her. “I mean…I’m sticking them down your throat. I’d honestly be surprised if they didn’t get a little vomit on them. Really, you’re not going to gross me out.” 

“If…if you’re sure.” She relented. Demi pulled her hair tie out and pulled Rayne’s red-violet curls back from her face for her, before encouraging her up more, sliding an arm around her stomach. 

“I’m sure. Ready?” She asked, bringing two fingers to her lips. Rayne’s heart hammered in her chest. 

“S-sure…g-go ahead.” 

Parting lips stained deep red with lip gloss, Demi slipped her pale, slender fingers past them. Just the weight of them on her tongue was enough to get Rayne to gag fully, though unproductive. Still, she pulled her fingers free, just in case. 

“Can you rub my back…while you do this?” 

Demi smiled, and slipped her hand beneath the hem of her shirt in the back, letting Rayne brace herself against the toilet with her own hands. “Like this?” 

“Yeah. Okay…I’m ready….” She offered, pressing her sore stomach against the bowl as Demi slid her fingers back within. This time she got them to the back of her tongue before she gagged, a belch coming free. Encouraged, Demi wiggled them further back there, pressing her body against Rayne’s to help the pressure of her stomach against the bowl. This time, she let out a loud gurgling wretch as a thick spray of puke ejected suddenly spraying against the back of the toilet from the force, only some of it managing to make it into the bowl. 

“Oh…Oh god.” Rayne trembled, gagging again weakly with a disgusting sounding burp, spitting acidic, ropey drool into the bowl. “I-I’m sorry.” 

Demi cleaned her hand off with a bit of toilet paper. “Don’t be. Did that help?” 

“A little. I don’t think I’m done though,” she whispered. 

Demi didn’t even hesitate, throwing the bit of vomit-covered toilet paper into the bowl and slipping her hand back up to begin gagging her again. Rayne’s throat clenched hot and wet around her fingers, mostly wet belches and close calls before another forceful wave of half-digested Chinese food came up, spraying through nose and mouth into the bowl. She spit, catching a breath before belching, and needing a smaller prod of Demi’s fingers before she puked again. Her face was red as could be with all the disgusting wet burps and seeing her vomit dripping from Demi’s fingers. 

_“I’m going to have to marry this woman if this doesn’t scare her away.”_

Demi was entirely patient with it, taking her time rubbing her back while she helped her girlfriend empty herself until all that was left was the occasional hiccup or quiet burp. “There you go, love,” she comforted, kissing Rayne’s temple as she pulled her back into her lap to relax against her. She could feel her drenched in sweat, trembling entirely from the exertion. 

“So much better.” Rayne sighed, no strength left in her to even fight the gesture, not that she wanted to. “Give me a minute…I’ll clean it up. I feel so much better now.” 

“Shh, I’ll clean it up. Just relax for a bit. Once you come down, I’ll run us both a warm bath and we can curl up for the night.” 

-Fin-


End file.
